my extremes and me this jest now, till thou remember it. JULIET. Give me, give me! O tell not me of fear! FRIAR LAWRENCE. Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet to be married? JULIET. It is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond gentleman? NURSE. The son and heir, Young Abraham Cupid, he that now is going out of breath? JULIET. How cam’st thou now To Lammas-tide? LADY CAPULET. Enough of this; I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire: